Someone To Call Home
by NKelley
Summary: Oliver is leaving to face Ra's al Ghul. Will Felicity come clean with him about how she feels before it's too late? A look at what might have happened after Oliver told Felicity that he loved her at the end of episode 9 of season 3 "The Climb".


First, the legalities. I do not own or claim to own the fictional characters or series that this work of fiction is based upon. All copyrights for Arrow and the characters of Oliver Queen, Felicity Smoak, and any others belong to DC Comics, CW, Marc Guggenheim, Andrew Kreisberg, and Greg Berlanti, and any other authors or entities that can lay claim to them, specifically the writing pertaining to what I have expounded upon from episode 9 of season 3, The Climb. I've merely borrowed them to take a peek into their world and play around a bit. I intend no malice; it was done purely for fun. However, the story depicted here is an original creation by me and belongs to me.

Now, that having been said, I hope you enjoy the story. This is a one-off story, so there is only one part.

**Someone To Call Home**

**By N. Kelley**

Oliver hefted the strap of his bag over his head to hang across his body, favoring Felicity with the smile he reserved only for her. "Felicity, I honestly don't know if I'm a killer anymore."

Felicity listened anxiously, his words driving daggers into her heart. If he couldn't bring himself to kill Ra's al Ghul, then he was as good as dead because the Demon's Head would not be so merciful. A million things were shouting at her from inside her head, mostly about how to stop Oliver from going without asking him to stay, but she kept quiet, not wanting to interrupt him. Not yet.

"But I do know two things," he continued softly with the same warm smile still on his face. "The first is that, whoever I am, I'm someone that will do whatever, _whatever_, it takes to save my sister."

_But not this way_, her brain was screaming. There had to be another way. There had to. She knew Oliver wasn't willing to allow innocent people to die in Starling because of a mistake involving him, but this wasn't his fault. Couldn't he see that? Malcolm Merlyn was the one who deserved to die. But, of course, Oliver wasn't willing to risk his sister's life on a murderer's benevolence. So he would do what he always did—sacrifice himself. Tears were stinging her eyes. This couldn't be happening. She had to stop him; she couldn't let him go.

Oliver started forward, but not to walk past her. He walked right up to her, his face radiating with his smile, and he closed his eyes as he pressed his lips tenderly to her forehead. She sucked in an unsteady breath, and his hand came up to grasp hers, to steady her. He was always there to support her and encourage her, even now, at this horrible hour. She wanted to say something, but words wouldn't come. Curse her tongue. The one time she needed to talk, and she couldn't. He held the tender kiss for what seemed like an eternity, but then he was releasing her hand all too soon. His lips left her skin as he stepped back from her, favoring her with another smile.

She watched helplessly as he moved around her and started to walk away. Fighting through the haze in her brain, the importance of what he had just said finally came to her. Two things. "And the second thing?"

He shook his head ever so slightly, as if he were addressing some inner turmoil, and then he looked up at her and smiled. "I love you."

Shock rippled through her.

_Love you. Do you understand?_

_Don't ask me to say that I don't love you._

_ You know how I feel about her._

He had expressed his feelings to her before, but never like this. Never actually plainly speaking those three little words to her.

_I love you._

By the time Felicity's mind worked through the emotion of what he had just said, he had turned and walked away. She looked down at her hand where she was rubbing her fingers together nervously, unconsciously; something that she had seen Oliver do many times when he was anxious about something.

She couldn't let him go. Not like this. She hadn't even said those words back to him. He had to know how she felt before he went to face Ra's al Ghul. He might have been fighting for Thea, but she needed to give him something else to fight for. "Oliver?" she called out, hurrying after him. "Oliver wait!"

Felicity caught up to him easily because he had waited, just like she had asked him to. He always did what she asked him to do. She hadn't realized that until just now. There were so many times that she had called him out, flat out demanded something of him, and he had always listened. Even in Central City when Barry wanted their help and Oliver had been reluctant to partner with him; in the end, he had agreed because she had asked him to. She was only now realizing how difficult that must have been for him, knowing that she and Barry had a mutual attraction.

But he had done it anyway.

If she told him to stay now, would he listen to her?

She bit her lip. She wouldn't do that. He was doing this for Thea. She wouldn't put herself between him and his sister. But if she couldn't stop him from leaving, she would give him something else to fight for, something to come home to.

He had stopped walking, but his back was still turned to her. "Felicity, don't make this harder than it already is."

"I know," she stammered shakily, walking up behind him. She wrapped her arms around him and laid her head against his back. "But I couldn't let you leave without knowing how I feel."

He took hold of one of her hands and turned in her arms to face her. "I already know."

"I'm going to say it anyway," she persisted doggedly, taking in a tight breath. "I love you, Oliver. I wish I had said it to you before now. I wish I hadn't waited so long. I was just afraid. You told me that you weren't sure you could ever be with me as Oliver Queen, and I was afraid to risk my heart if it meant that I would lose you." She wiped at a tear that was trickling down her cheek. "But now, I might lose you anyway, and I need you to know."

He smiled a tender smile. "Felicity—"

Before he could say anything else, she went up on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his. His body went rigid with surprise for a moment, but then he was wrapping his arms around her and kissing her. More tears streamed down her face. He needed to know how important he was to her. How much she needed him.

He had to come back to her.

Her hands were gripping at his back restlessly, as if they were looking for some way to anchor him here with her. But then, all too soon, his lips were pulling away from hers. No. It was too soon. Unwilling to let him go, she reached up to wrap her hands behind his neck, pulling his mouth back to hers and reclaiming it.

This time she felt a change in his posture and demeanor. He had been hesitant before, but now he was kissing her in earnest. His soft warm lips, so alive against hers, were tasting her, touching her, again and again.

"Felicity," he breathed her name before he kissed her again, and the huskiness in his voice released a flood of fire in her veins.

She had always loved hearing him say her name. Longing was growing deep inside of her as her stomach did a slow, hot slide. She ran her hands up into his hair and relished in the feel of it between her fingers.

Oliver's lips left hers briefly to trail a path of kisses first to her jaw and then down the delicate skin of her neck. When he got to the base of her throat, he sucked lightly at the skin. The flesh on her arms and the back of her neck rose up with delight. She kissed his forehead gently before encouraging him to move his lips further down her body.

"Felicity," he murmured her name again. His voice was low and tinged with concern. "Not like this."

"No," she whispered back. "Exactly like this." She took the strap from around his neck and lifted it over his head, dumping the bag on the floor with a thud. Reaching out with her hands, she grabbed for the bottom of his shirt.

He took hold of her hands in his, preventing her. "I don't want this to be—"

"Our last memory of each other?" she cut him off harshly. When he flinched at the heat in her words, she softened, and almost pleaded with him as she continued, "Then don't go, and it won't be."

"Felicity, please—"

"If you can't remain here with me, then at least give me tonight."

"I can't stay the night. They're waiting for me," he said, letting out a soft sigh.

"Then stay for as long as you can. That's all I ask."

She looked into his dark, conflicted eyes and saw that she was prevailing. Not wanting to give him the chance to regain his resolve, she took hold of his hand and led him back through the foundry to the bed that she had bought for him. Without saying another word, she shrugged off her coat and threw it hastily to the floor before removing her glasses and tossing them on top of it. She took hold of his shirt and lifted it so she could run her hands up his well-defined chest. He was so strong. But would he be strong enough to beat Ra's al Ghul?

Oliver crossed his arms in front of him to take hold of his shirt and deftly pull it over his head in one smooth motion. Felicity was left staring at his muscular chest and stomach. She had seen him shirtless so many times, but none of them had been like this. He was in her arms, so close and tangible. She ran her hands up his chest again, delighting in the warmth coming from his body. Her fingers traced the scars he bore, reminding her briefly of what he was about to face, but she pushed the thoughts aside and leaned up to kiss him.

His lips sought hers in return, and he drew from her repeatedly until she was nearly out of breath. Then he pulled away from her and tipped his head forward to rest it against hers. "I love you, Felicity. You give me the courage and strength to face whatever is coming. You always have. No one has ever made me feel like that before. When I'm with you I feel like I'm where I'm supposed to be. I feel like I'm home."

Tears burned in her eyes again, threatening to spill over and blaze a trail down her face. But she couldn't let him see her cry. She didn't want him to feel any guilt right now. He always carried so much guilt with him, for everyone. She wanted him to be happy, to be free. "Don't tell me how you feel, Oliver," she said softly. "Show me."

He took her by the hands and led her over to the bed.

She glanced down at the stretchy black dress that she was wearing and then over at the bed before looking up at him questioningly. He ignored her uncertainty and urged her onto the bed. She complied and he climbed into bed behind her, rolling her onto her side and wrapping her gently in his arms.

It felt really good being held by him like this, but it wasn't exactly what she had been going for. "Oliver?"

"This is me showing you," he said quietly. "I love you enough to wait for the right time, to wait until I come back. I don't want to rush into anything that you might regret later."

"No," she protested, attempting to wriggle out of his arms.

"Yes," he said, clutching her so she couldn't get away. "I'm here, and I'll stay here with you as long as you need."

"If that's the case, then you're going to miss your appointment," she quipped, giving up on her escape.

"Felicity—"

His voice was pained and it made her feel guilty. "I'm sorry," she apologized quickly. "I know…I know I have to let you go." She closed her eyes and savored the feel of his arms around her, so warm and strong. Part of her wondered if she could actually fall asleep in his arms, but the other part argued that she wouldn't get to watch him leave or tell him goodbye.

Goodbye.

Would it be her last goodbye? She didn't know if she could say it and she began to cry. Oliver didn't say anything, though she was sure that he could feel her body shaking. He just held her even tighter against him, softly nuzzling her neck.

After a few minutes, the tears subsided and she let out a shuddering sigh. Oliver gave her a squeeze and moved his mouth next to her ear. "I love you, Felicity Smoak," he whispered, "and I'm going to come back for you."

"You better," she replied in a shaky voice, turning in his arms to look at him. "Because I'll be here waiting for you."

"Thank you," he murmured, kissing her cheek softly. "For giving me something to come home to."

She smiled at him, overcome with emotion, and he smiled back. He didn't smile enough; there was too much tragedy in his life. But his face was so gorgeous when he smiled. The room seemed to brighten as if he had let in some light. This had to be the best smile that he had ever shared with her.

His eyes sparkled as he continued, "Thank you for giving me a home. You are my home."

When he pulled away, she wasn't ready to let him go. She would never be ready. A million things went through her mind, things she wanted to say to him, professions that she wanted him to hear, but in the end, she just leaned up in bed on her elbows and watched as he retrieved his shirt from the floor, soaking in this one last image of him.

After pulling his shirt on over his head, Oliver walked over to the bed. His hair was mussed and his face was flushed and Felicity thought that he had never looked more handsome. He reached out to cup her face tenderly and then bent down to kiss her lips. She wanted so badly to lose herself in the kiss, but he was already releasing her from his grasp. Her eyes found his and they begged him not to leave. He held her gaze for several heartbeats, and she held her breath, before he finally stood back up.

She waited for him to say goodbye but he didn't, and she didn't have it in her to say the words as she watched him turn and walk away. She wondered if he would look back, just one last time.

He did. Oliver stopped and turned to look at her. The sadness in his face would have been too much for her if it weren't for the warm smile on his lips. "I'll be late coming home, so don't wait up."

She wished she could just pretend that he was going out on a routine patrol of the city and that he would be back home safe soon, but her heart and mind knew better. "I always wait up."

"I know," he said with a telling smile.

And then he was gone.

Felicity knew that she would wait for him. He would find a way to come back to her.

He would find a way to come home.

Fini.

...

Thanks for reading. I always appreciate any feedback that any of you kind readers are willing to share with me. Feedback feeds my muse and my soul. I regret that I couldn't post the original version of this fic here. I'm afraid it was a little too mature for the guidelines. It would have had to be rated MA and that's not allowed here, so I had to edit it for content and post it in this format instead. Hopefully the edits were flawless enough that it wasn't too obvious, and I hope the story was still enjoyable without the edited content. Thanks for reading. I do have another Olicity story that I've been writing. It would be several parts and would take place after episode 9, showing the reaction to Oliver's death as well as his return. Are any of you interested in reading that one? Please let me know in the comments. Thanks!


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